MGA..

Headquarters of Magic Guild Association, Tokyo.

The round table room is filled with voices layered over one another.

The chamber itself was designed to project authority—high ceilings reinforced with mana-resistant alloys, walls etched with ancient runic wards that dampened hostile spellcasting. A circular table of black stone dominated the center, its surface smooth and unmarked despite the countless decisions that had been made upon it.

Tonight, the atmosphere was strained.

The men seated there represented the highest authority among licensed mages. 

The ones who decided where battles happened and who was allowed to fight them. 
Wars were waged far from this room, but their outcomes were born here.

Tonight’s discussion had only one subject.

“We’ve waited long enough.” The voice cut through the noise sharply. 

One of the senior council members slammed his palm against the table, the sound echoing through the chamber.

“Warp gates are increasing!” he continued. “Casualties are mounting, and we still haven’t made any progress in the rankings.."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, then. Do you we all agree?”

Several heads nodded in agreement.

Some reluctantly.

Some eagerly.

“If we hesitate now, we fall behind.” another council member added, leaning forward with clasped hands. “Other nations are already adapting. We cannot afford to sit still while the world advances.”

Murmurs of approval rippled around the table.

The proposal hung in the air, heavy and unspoken, yet understood by everyone present:

Project Annihilation.

A nationwide, unprecedented directive operation to enter the Demon Realm itself.

No mage had ever done it because warp gates are unstable by nature. They are violent tears in reality that barely tolerated passage from one side to the other and suffice to say, entering them is dangerous. 

Crossing through the gate with the intent to conquer demon realm was something entirely unheard of.

There were no maps.

No stable coordinates.

And certainly, no guarantee of return.

Entering the Demon Realm meant gambling not just on survival, but on the assumption that survival was even possible inside that realm.

“This is about showing who we are.” someone said quietly, breaking the tension. “Globally.”

The room fell into a brief, thoughtful silence.

It wasn’t just about defense.

It never was.

Politics crept into the discussion like a second shadow.

A holographic display flickered to life above the center of the table, its pale blue light casting sharp highlights across the faces of the council members. 

Data scrolled briefly before settling into a familiar configuration.

The current rankings of the world’s strongest S-rank mages are listed inside it:

Japan stood at fourth. Amaterasu’s name anchored the position, glowing steadily beneath the nation’s insignia.

Above him were three others.

At the third position stood, Muruga of India.
A Ranged Lancer, rumored to have survived conditions that should have killed him dozens of times over.

At the second position stood, Zhelong of China.
A Master Twin-Assassins whose control over battlefields had rewritten entire wars.

And at the top stood, Buster Max of the United States.

Almost all of the data surrounding him was redacted, obscured behind clearance locks and classified markers. What little information remained was too vague to have any conclusion.

“Our ambition is simple.” the chairman said, his voice firm. “We produce the strongest mage in the world.”

No one laughed.

No one objected.

The statement wasn’t aspirational. It was declarative.

Amaterasu listened in silence.

He sat with his arms crossed, posture relaxed, gaze unfocused as if the discussion were happening somewhere just beyond his hearing. The glow of the holographic display reflected faintly in his eyes, but his expression didn’t change.

He had heard all of this before.

Strength is the leverage and Rank is currency. The gap in power between the fourth and the third rank is wider than the numbers suggested..

The screen lit up with a single notification.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

He stood up. The chair scraped softly against the floor as he pushed it back, the sound cutting through the discussion just enough to draw attention. 

Several council members turned in surprise, words trailing off mid-sentence.

“Amaterasu?” someone began.

He didn’t answer back.

Without explanation, he turned and walked toward the exit of the chamber. The doors parted automatically at his approach, sealing shut behind him with a muted thud.

The room fell into uneasy silence.

The holographic display continued to glow, rankings frozen in place.